Aversions to Fate
by Active Radios
Summary: Drabble series, based on the fifty themes challenge. Alternate universes. There is more to men's lives than the roads they walk down; there are also the roads that they didn't walk down to take into consideration. Chapter eight- Bias.
1. Road not taken

_A/N: While I've written fanfic many times before- on this site no less!- this is my first foray into SH fic, so I'm rather nervous, I must admit!_

_This is going to be one of the many, many drabbleseries in this section, and like several of them it's both a.) going to use the fifty themes from the livejournal theme community (unofficially, anyway) and b.) going to be based around AUs. ...Many of them will be, may I add, really ridiculous. It's all in good fun!_

_I do not know if there will be pairings yet; if there are, I'll mention them before the drabble. There may be slash, femmeslash, and for that matter, het here. Canon, non canon, and totally ridiculous ones. If any of these offend you, I'd rather you simply didn't read that chapter, please! I don't want anyone upset. Anyway, I've rambled. Please enjoy the series!_

#22 - Quirks

The decision, while a unanimous (and yet equally unspoken) one, was nonetheless one which seemed to tug at both Holmes's and Watson's minds in the week or so preceding their respective departures from Baker Street.

That was not to say either particularly wished for the opportunity or means to prevent it, however. While they could certainly be said to be amiable with each other at times, and even rather friendly, it had become an undeniable fact over the last few months that they were in no way suited to prolonged exposure to each other- for reasons that could even, Watson thought, be deserving of another of his lists.

And yet the both of them- even Holmes, who clearly thought himself above such things- felt something strange within themselves even as they shook hands and bade the other farewell. Something snapping, fancied Watson; something handed to him, perhaps, that he had handed back.

A road, he thought rather strangely as he turned to watch the strangely thin figure walk in the opposite direction to himself, not taken.


	2. Deceit

#14- Sex

The scene in front of him- a young woman at her dressing table, applying cosmetics to her face, was one that would not generally be considered to be unusual or noteworthy. In theory, that is. But nonetheless, Mycroft Holmes, a man who prided himself on his ability to find solid reason in anything and everything, still found himself uncharacteristically speechless and something akin to thoughtless at the situation presented to him.

"You cannot be serious in going through with this."

"I assure you I am."

"It cannot be done!"

This unusual outburst was accompanied by an equally unusual pacing from a man usually so sedentary, though the suit-clad woman opposite him showed no acknowledgement of this as she rose, face tightly drawn and resolute as she cast a cold eye towards him.

"It can."

Face expertly done, clothes carefully chosen and disguise complete, Mycroft could only glare helplessly as his newly christened "brother" Sherlock Holmes exited the room without another word.

_A/N: I have wanted to write something like this for ages; I know the idea is utterly ridiculous, when you consider the practicalities, but it grabbed me and wouldn't let go. Besides, it opens the door for a lot of self loathing, and God knows I adore self loathing based angst! And hey, I warned you a lot of these would be silly, right? I might end up doing one more along this theme, may I add..._


	3. Blame

#28 - Sickness [Warning: Character death]

It did not take much to end a man's life.

There were the obvious and direct ways of course; a bullet to the head, or in this case any other part of the anatomy, could end a life with a single and simple tightening of the muscles in one's finger. But it was not always as straightforward and clear cut as that, or as easy to place the label of blame on.

The doctor viewing John Watson's body sighed as he considered this himself; in times like these, where was the time to check that it hadn't been an overdosed drug from his own carers, or an infection from his housing, that had ended him, and not the bullet that would be blamed nonetheless?

As he turned away he supposed it didn't matter much right now- no matter the answer, the man was dead, just like so many others, and life would go on. As would war, and the death that came with it, no matter where one was.

_A/N: And yes, that line is far too symbolic for it's own good back in England. Did I mention I'm pretentious?_


	4. Deceit II

_A/N: Continues on from chapter two. I know the idea is silly but I like it so much... I was considering a separate drabble series to keep it seperate from this so I don't fall into just doing ONE AU. Thoughts? Or is that just self-indulgence? XD_

#49 - Hair

The first time she cut her hair short was most definitely not a time she was liable to forget.

For obvious reasons she was compelled to do it herself rather than ask another- while the significant backlash was inevitable and obvious even to someone less intelligent than herself, she would rather the backlash occurred because she had done something than because she had considered doing something, truth be told.

This did not change the fact that the backlash was, indeed, significant.

It was rather amusing, she thought wryly, that in punishing her by forcing her sleeping outside her father was rather perpetuating her "delusions" as he called them; such punishments as this would generally not be seen as ones to give to a girl.

Perhaps, Holmes thought as she methodically shifted to gain the most possible comfort on the soil, she should reconsider her theory of her logical prowess being somehow familial after all.


	5. Specimens

#22 - Jealousy

The woman who entered 221B Baker Street that early evening could be described as remarkable for numerous reasons, both obvious and discreet.

The clearest one, or at least the one most men would find to be the clearest one, was her appearance. While it was true she was sworn to be one of the most stunning women alive by those who knew of her, it could not be said to be a beauty which manifested in a way that was to be expected- not only from her face, but from her expression and poise alike.

Each aspect of the manner in which Miss Irene Adler presented herself were not merely identifiably graceful and assured, though they were that. No, even more strikingly, they were without exception confident to the point that it instilled all other men and women within proximity to her with that same confidence in her.

Watson was by his own admission not endowed with his friend's observational skills, but even as she stood before them and stated her name and business, he fancied he could even see this effect upon Holmes as much as he could feel it upon himself; and that was a puzzle he had to consider in and of itself, regardless of the problem Miss Adler was putting to them.

And as he cast his gaze back to the most extraordinary woman before them both, he could not help but wish for a moment that Holmes's attentions were, as he so often insisted, for crime related puzzles and those alone, and not specimens.

_A/N: That was... hard to get across in less than 500 words. Ouch. I apologise, therefore, should it be a little unclear. ^^; Also, yes, there are two twenty-twos. I'm picking from five sets of themes, and the numbers are just there in case anyone wants to look which set I used up... this isn't really a completion of a challenge, then, since no way am I doing five times fifty themes! o_o_


	6. No place

#32 - Sorrow [Warning: character death (suicide)]

Holmes has put his life in black and white terms since he was young. This has clearly not changed, as he finds he possesses plenty of lines to draw as to when things changed; plenty of dates to name as to when things went wrong, basically. Most all of them revolve around meetings, a good deal of them revolve around a marriage, and rather a lot of them revolve around sorrow, if he is made to place an emotion on something he'd rather not. Such things have no place in his life, after all.

And if, he reflects as he looks into the chasm of the falls, they truly have no place in his life then he is obliged to remove them. By any means necessary.

The water is cold when he falls, and it numbs him. He is glad.


	7. Shatter

_Author's own prompt - Silence_

Should Holmes have ever found reason to need proof that it was possible for a silence to truly be described as 'ringing', the situation he was currently in would have provided for him more than adequately.

The effect was heightened to a degree by its contrast to the business that had just been concluded; Mrs. Hudson's surprisingly eloquent shouting match- well, more of a speech, really- with him, the abrupt slamming of doors as she then stormed out and the (feeble) barking of her infernal dog... as well as, of course, the loud shattering noises of experiments gone wrong which had prompted such an overreaction in her.

Left standing there, Holmes could not help but snort lightly, impending eviction (twofold, actually, for both him and Doctor Watson, and he was surprised at the small guilt he felt before dismissing it) or no. Whether it had occurred in the manner Stamford had expected or not, the man had been correct after all. He and the Doctor had not lasted the six months.


	8. The Woman

#13 - Bias

_"To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex..."_

There was a rather long pause after this had been read allowed, interrupted only by a slight clink as the woman sat opposite Holmes placed her cup down gently. Said pause was, somehow, both carefully restrained and intensely amused, both at once.

"...My dear Watson?"

"Yes, Holmes?"

"I do believe you just forfeited any right you ever had to call me conceited."

"Did I really? I'm afraid I can't see how."

Holmes' only response was a raised eyebrow.

"Since," Irene Holmes continued, entirely ignoring said eyebrow, "as far as I am aware, the text you have just read out refers to an Irene _Adler_, not myself, am I correct?"

The eyebrow stayed raised. The woman simply picked up her teacup and smiled right back in response, before plucking the newly printed copy of the Strand from his fingers to read it herself.

_A/N: OK, a lot of people may not get this. It's based on a joke essay wherein it is theorised that Watson did not exist, and that in fact Irene 'Adler' (Watson, that is. ...Née Holmes, as of SCAN) made him up for the stories. ...Yeah. I recommend it, it's hilarious really. And I know he should probably not call her 'Watson' because of that née thing but hey. It. Could be... habit? *shrug*_


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